


tumblr requests

by StrangeHormones



Category: Castle Freak (1995), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Creampie, Dubious Consent, F/M, Face-Sitting, Kidnapping, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:40:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26205823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangeHormones/pseuds/StrangeHormones
Summary: smaller fics that have been requested that i have done
Relationships: Natasha Romanov/Reader, Peter Parker/Reader, john reilly/reader
Kudos: 37





	1. peter parker

**Author's Note:**

> requests from youtastelikesugar.tumblr.com that i wanted to do
> 
> feel free to leave requests with song lyrics, prompts, sentence starts, or vague situations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “you are so perfect. you are so perfect for me.”

You gasp, feeling his lips trace up the curve of your neck as he grinds against you, hand gripping your thigh. He’s surrounding you in all the best ways. His teeth tug at your earlobe, your back arches, and his groan clouds everything but him and everything he makes you feel. It’s needy and lacks coordination but nothing has every felt better. Until he spoke.

“You are so perfect,” he whispers, hitting every nerve inside you as his hands electrified your skin, “You are so perfect for me.”

It’s enough to send you over the edge, “I love you,” a few breathless words before losing yourself completely, “I love you,” you don’t regret it.


	2. peter parker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “get on your knees.” “were you just touching yourself.”

One of the greatest things about your relationship with Peter was the equality, especially in the situation you’d found yourself recently. There hadn’t been a whole lot of time for you together and you had made a vow to hold out till you got the chance. Your theory being how much more mind blowing it would be with all the build up and, let’s be honest, tension. The plan upon entering the apartment was to pounce on him and have your way with him. Normally catching Peter with his hand down his pants would be a welcome sight but you’ve spent the last three weeks avoiding anything that could be considered touching yourself. The last week you had given up jeans simply because the seam had started to drive you crazy.

You slam the door, “Were you just touching yourself?” your voice is darker than you remember it being and he jumps, “I thought we agreed to _not_ do that.”

He’s got a deer in the headlights look, “I-I thought you were joking,” it’s followed by a look of overwhelming guilt, “Wait have you not-”

You hum negatively and shake your head, arms crossed, “Get on your knees,” you’re angrier at him than you’ve ever been while simultaneously desperate for an orgasm, “You owe me.”

He falls off the couch onto his knees as you approaching, dropping your panties as you went and stepping out of them, “I am really, _really_ sorry, baby.”

You pull the front of your skirt up, “Prove it.”

Apparently, abstinence, guilt, and a raging hard on was the perfect combination. Holding you tight by the back of the thighs, he buried his face between your slightly spread legs. Your legs threatened to buckle but you weren’t ready to give him even the idea you were considering forgiving him. Which means you can’t moan, you can’t grip his hair like you so desperately want to, you just have to stand there. Your indifference fuels him, he sucks desperately at your clit, knowing how normally you would shriek. The skirt hides your bitten lip and clenched eyes from his view, you can tell he’s starting to worry. He buries two fingers in you, clenching walls and your wetness the only signs of satisfaction he receives. You are embarrassingly close, even when the familiar quick feeling of your utility orgasm washes over you, somehow you manage to hold it together. More than likely only to punish him.

His frustrated sigh is the only warning you get that he’s about to appear in few and you force your face into neutrality, no matter how wonderful his fingers felt sliding in and out of you, “I’m serious. I didn’t-”

“Prove it,” you repeat, mostly because they’re the only words you can mange but he doesn’t know that.

He rips his fingers from you, you almost whine with disappoint but end up being distracted by him leaning back against the carpet and guiding you over his face. It’s something you had briefly mentioned in a half-joking manner to test the waters and he had apparently been paying very close attention if he remembered that. You rewarded him with a content sigh when you’d adjusted on his face, gripping the cushions on the edge of the couch tighter than his grip on your ass. You grind against his face as his tongue darts in and out of your cunt visciously. You want to scream, maybe even a squeak but you can’t. Instead your thighs tighten around his head and you move at a gallop. He’s moaning against you, that fact you can yank such amazing noises from him without there being anything in it for him sends you over the edge once again.

This time you can’t stop yourself, “Fuck, Peter!” your neighbors have to hear, “Jesus Christ!”

It isn’t the out of your body, flying high feeling you’re used to. It’s much more grounding, you’re aware of every nerve, every move he makes and when it’s over you find yourself incredibly level headed. Enough to climb to your feet, skirt dropping and stepping away from your panting, sticky faced boyfriend.

“Well, I’ve got a mountain of work to do. You’ll be fine on your own, right?” your tone dripping with sarcasm as you stepped into the bedroom and slammed the door.

There was a beat of silence, but not a second longer, “I said I was sorry!”


	3. natasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think I can a bit more specific lol, so, maybe they're both avengers (Nat and dark!r) and Natasha is in a relationship with carol, but r has an obsession with her, so r manipulates the computers so that it shows both of them have an assigned mission, where in reality r kidnaps Natasha, and keeps her tied up in "their" bedroom in the big mansion no one knew r had. (could be some nsfw) "they all think we have a long mission Nat, no one's comin to save you baby" (can the smut be r touching nat?)

The downside of having been the one to train you, a downside Natasha had never considered if she were being honest, would you know exactly how to tie her up to keep her somewhere. Which is exactly the predicament she found herself in. A quick glance of the room made it very clear you had planned this, anything that might’ve been useful had been moved out of reach or, she assumed, removed entirely. Something similar had been done to her clothes, leaving her exposed in the matching black bra and panties she was beginning to regret wearing. If only because of the way you were biting your lip and staring her down like she was your next meal. Natasha had to remind herself, she well could be.

“You clear on the fact that you’re stuck here?” you finally ask when her green eyes fall on you, “They all think we’re on a long mission, Nat, no one’s coming to save you, baby. Not even Captain Danvers herself,” unable to stop the smirk that spreads on your face when she winces at the name of her current squeeze.

“You don’t have to do this,” there’s no point in playing it anything but straight with you, she’s taught you all her tricks, “We all make bad choices-”

You clicked your tongue and shook your head, “This isn’t a bad choice,” your knee on the bed as you moved between her rope widened legs, “I wouldn’t even call this a _choice_ ,” she’s never heard your voice so dark, for the first time in a long time she’s scared, “Clint, Steve, Carol, who knows who else,” her body quivers when your fingers run across her lace covered slit, Natasha assures herself it’s from fear, “Too busy slutting around to pay attention to the one person who really cares about you.”

She might’ve responded, with what she still isn’t sure, but the rough fabric suddenly pressed against her clit steals her focus. She looks around desperately, trying to find some form of escape. Your fingers force the fabric back and forth with firm pressure. She bites back her moan but it’s not something you miss. She’s taught you too well and she regrets it. You grin, it reminds her too much of how happy you had been when she’d taken you out for your birthday just last week. That thought was the crack in her armor, because it’s still you, and she still loves you. Your fingers increase in speed, abusing the bud with no thought than your own glee, something Carol had never dared do. Natasha tries to focus on her girlfriend. Her face, her voice, but it’s stolen from her when you pinch her nipple hard.

“Fuck! Yes!” the words tumble from her lips before she can stop them, it comes with a torrent of wetness and need between her legs that she can’t control.

You hum with delight, your activities between her legs aided by her arousal and twisting the nub between your fingers just hard enough to hurt and tingle in all the right ways, “It’s okay to like it,” you purred, feeling her body begin to quiver, “I promise by the end of the week you’re going to beg for it.”

Natasha hates that you might be right. She hates even more that she’s having a hard time finding something wrong with it.


	4. john reilly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you write Prompt 59. “Wake up In the middle of the night and have sex (then go back to sleep)“ with John Reilly, please?

Sometimes John is sure he’ll wake up, alone, with a wife down the hall who hates him and a daughter that fills him with guilt, and you’ll have been some beautiful figment his mind had created to torture him to the brink. He can’t remember the nightmare, only that it’s tugged on this particular worry and for the first time in a long time he wakes suddenly in the middle of the night. You’re wrapped around him, holding tight in an attempt to leech heat from his body in the drafty castle. His own sudden wakening pulls you from your own slumber. While he is wide eyed, still trying to shake the feelings from a terrible dream he can’t remember you drowsily run your fingers across his lips.

“S’okay,” you sigh, using the soft movements to urge his lips to your own, “’M here,” there’s something grounding about your sleep chapped lips pressed gently against his own, “’M awake.”

He can’t help smiling, “I had a nightmare,” you hum in dissatisfaction, running your fingers along his jaw, “None of this happened.”

No words he’s ever uttered have woken you faster than those four, you’re over him in a second. Knee on either side of his hips, holding his face in your hands and making sure he dared not look away from you. He is left only a few seconds to wonder what you might say before discovering you’ve found words lacking. Your lips press against his once again, this time you press further. Your tongue dipping between the seams of his lips. His hands pull at the skirt of your nightgown, up and up, till it gathered around your waist and he could grip your bare hips in a bruising grip.

Your hand travels down the curve of his neck, over his shoulder, till you could hold his hand in yours. He let you lead him to you barely hidden sex, already warm and throbbing. He groans, daring himself to dip between your lips and the wetness he found there made him desperate. He thrums your clit, swallowing the guttural moan it pulls from you and using his other hand to pull at the waistband of his pajama pants. It’s seconds but still too long before you’re sinking down on him and taking him to the hilt like only you can. He holds you close, he needs as much of you against him as possible.

It is desperation incarnate. Teeth clanking before lips move along skin, fingers following behind. You’re not riding him and he’s not thrusting into you, instead both of you locked in a carefully synched undulation that can only be achieved in a moment like this. There isn’t enough to touch, to taste, to feel, and yet too much all at the same time. He can feel himself teetering on the edge, so close to his own release and desperate to give you yours. He yanks it from you with a careful jut of his hip that presses him against every nerve inside and that beautiful bud brushing across his pelvis. You come crashing down and he cums with a force he didn’t know was possible. His shout echoing against the stone and mingles with your own desperate cries. Your body shakes against him, humming low moans as aftershocks shook your body. His fingers run along your spine, your shoulders, calming your nerves before you eased off him and snuggle against his side.

“I’m hear, John,” your voice is groggy, your grip on his collar lose while still trying to hold tight, “I promise.”


	5. peter parker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “i wouldn’t come in here if i were you”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stark!reader

You’re too far gone to hear the front door open but Peter isn’t, it’s why he clamps his hand over your mouth even as he can’t stop himself from drilling into your harder. You’re a beautiful, trembling mess and he is no rush to stop witnessing that. He hopes it’s Ned, at least then he can tell him to get out and explain it later.

“Kid! You around?” your brother’s voice sounds from the entryway.

Your stomach tries to drop but you’re shot right back up when he yanks you back against him and begins to assault your clit with his fingers as well. You want to scream, instead you dig your teeth into the palm of his hand. You can feel his chest rumble against you with a bitten groan.

“You trying to get us caught?” he hisses in your ear, somewhere between real worry and dirty talk that scares the shit out of him even as he presses harder on that overly sensitive bundle of nerves, “What is wrong with you Starks?”

“Peter…” comes the sing song voice that is making it’s way deeper into the apartment.

He’s grinding into you now, hitting every desperate part inside you with each movement, “Better hurry,” his voice dropping an octave as the fear begin to disappear in much the same way yours had, “It’d be better if he caught us with our clothes on.”

Which shouldn’t make your eyes roll into the back of your head but you have no control over your body at this point, it’s just him and pleasure. You’re so close, so desperately close, and maybe that’s why you can’t bring yourself to stop.

“You get I know you’re here, right?” he’s close to the bedroom door, reaching distance.

Which shouldn’t be what pushes you over the edge but it does, “I wouldn’t come in here if I were you, Mr. Stark?” thank God for Peter and his ability to somehow hold it together.

You’re too busy losing your mind in the sensations that rip through you as he never stops his movements. Your body dares to go completely limp when you’re sure your mind has flown out of your body and straight to heaven. You nails dig into the skin of his forearms, as if somehow that would ground you in a reality that doesn’t exist anymore.

“You got a girl in there?” you might’ve laughed at the “guy” tone of his voice if you weren’t suddenly crashing back to Earth.

“You could say that,” his stuttering hips tell you exactly how close he is, “Can this wait?”

“Nope,” your shuddering walls dragging his own orgasm from him suddenly, “But I can.”

“Could you not?” it’s the first words you manage, really needing this moment to be over so you could enjoy the feeling of Peter painting your insides.

“That is,” but his voice is retreating, “Just not okay,” quickly followed by a slam of the door.

“I gotta move,” Peter panted as you both fell forward on the bed, “And get more locks.”


	6. peter parker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “i want to find out how quickly you can cum.”

Peter and you had a habit of pushing the boundaries of what was considered a normal friendship, it didn’t feel strange when it had started. You were naturally overly flirtatious and Peter was a very touchy person. It hadn’t seemed odd to call each other babe or plant a big, semi-sloppy kiss on the other’s cheek, in fact it felt pretty nice to not have to worry about it being taken the wrong way. Naturally it had lead to talking about the more private parts of your life, it felt easy and natural to share all your sexy, dirty secrets with each other. Which is why you were happy to share what exactly had gone wrong on your most recent date.

“It’s not like it’s hard,” you laughed, tapping his chest with one of the feet sitting comfortably in his lap, “It’s me, I’m Chopsticks.”

Peter almost chokes on his soda before laughing, “You keep saying that.”

“What?” you asked, honestly wondering and earning a shake of the head that was little too aggressive from your friend, “Oh come on! There seriously can’t be something you’re embarrassed to say.”

“Embarrassed? No,” he replied, running his hand lightly against the bare skin of your shin, “Dynamic changing? Definitely!” looking disappointed with himself for even letting that slip.

“I dunno. Feels like I should be involved when it comes to that,” your response already on your tongue before he’d even finished, not at all confused at the tingles his attention sends through your body, “Seriously, Pete, I’m on the edge of my seat here!”

He looks different somehow when he looks at you this time, his eyes are ever so slightly darker and he looks serious, “I just can’t help but wonder have fast you _can_ cum.”

You’d heard a lot of things come out of Peter’s mouth but this was different, “W-what?” you sputtered, sure you’re must’ve imagined the implication of his words.

His hand moves over your knee, “I want to find out how quickly you can cum,” coming to a stop at the hem of your pajama shorts, “Then how many times before you beg me to stop,” it’d be a lie to say you hadn’t imagined being with Peter but you could never have predicted he’d be like this.

“If we run that experiment you’re stuck with the consequences,” your voice is heavy, eyes locked on his even as he fingers seemed happy to continue farther up your leg, “I’m serious.”

“You say that like it isn’t the only thing I’ve been thinking about since you told me,” you’ve never heard that tone; _pure need._

The tip of his index finger traced your slit, already soaked from the tingles his light touches had sent across your body. He groans, it sends a fresh wave of arousal through you and makes your clit throb with the desperate need to be touched. He is all too happy to oblige, watching rapt when you threw your head back and groaned when his fingertip pressed against the overly sensitive bundle of nerves. It being Peter already had you near the brink and the way he was looking at you like there was nothing else in the world wasn’t helping. 

“Wow,” you want to say something but he’s stolen speech from you, “You gonna cum, baby?”

The pet name sounds so different now and you shriek, body locking as your eyes rolled back and you shattered into a thousand beautiful pieces. He’s over you in an instant, watching you intently as you lost your mind, barely given a chance to crash down because his movements don’t stop. He adds another finger, letting it sit between the crevice and moving up and down so quickly you’re tossed over the edge once again.

“That’s 2…”


End file.
